Shadow of a Malfoy
by Be Boring
Summary: After Voldemort's triumph over Harry Potter, the world is facing its darkest time in history. The resistance is weak and the Dark Lord is stronger than ever, but someone is coming who may change things, no matter how much he doesn't want to. DMGW
1. A Land of Despondency

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Shadow of a Malfoy

By Be Boring

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Chapter 1: A Land of Despondency

A haze of unnaturally dark gray smoke hovered in the air over what may have once been a field for a Muggle farmer, but which now was home to rotting vegetation and creatures that no Muggle eyes had ever witnessed before, at least before the second rise of the Dark Lord. Creeping through the undergrowth, a small, inky reptile pulled itself along smoothly on its stomach, attempting to stay out of sight of the man standing merely three feet away. Its sharp ruby eyes peered up at the man's face, barely visible through the smoke that curled over the field.

He was standing very still, his cold gray eyes gazing at the empty space around him, his hand clasped firmly around his wand. That's where his hand remained most of the time these days. The thought of removing it made him feel naked, vulnerable. Above all, he needed to be able to defend himself at a moment's notice, for he was safe nowhere. The Dark Lord's ever growing power was like an immense evil eye, seeking his lean, almost unhealthy frame from miles away. He was unable to attain shelter from the few camps of the rebellion that still existed for they would never accept him. He was in a difficult position, made only worse by the knowledge of what he needed to do to survive for even another day.

This field lay on the outskirts of what had once been Hogsmeade, although no one called it that anymore. Its more common nickname these days was purgatory. The screams of the Muggles trapped within its boundaries were audible from several miles away, which he suspected was due to charms that the Death Eaters had placed around the village as a warning not to come closer. Who would want to approach a place that was so clearly full of pain?

Four years ago, Harry Potter had faced Lord Voldemort in the ruins of Hogwarts castle, carrying with him the hopes of every innocent being in the world, and four years ago, he had failed. Nobody knew for sure what had happened, but it was clear who had been the victor. Voldemort had stridden out of the castle with a malevolent smile upon his inhuman features and had proceeded to break all pretense of secrecy in concern to the Muggles. He had unleashed every evil thing he held under his control upon the nonmagical community, resulting in near decimation of the Muggles. The remainder were forced into camps all over the world to suffer horrors that nobody wanted to even imagine.

The resistance against his power was feeble at best, for an attack on the Ministry the day after his battle with Harry Potter resulted in a near total collapse of confidence in those who wished to remain free. Anyone who could fight off the Imperius Curse was killed, and when the governments of all other magical countries were defeated in a similar manner, the rest of the population seemed to give up. Many took their own lives to escape the choice they would be forced to make, while the vast majority of the remainder threw themselves into Voldemort's service. The few who still wanted to fight were now hidden, perhaps awaiting their chance to make a move that he highly doubted would succeed.

Draco Malfoy took a deep breath of the filthy air around him, scowled at the burning which rippled down his throat, and strode purposefully toward the distant dark shapes he knew to be the only buildings left in Hogsmeade. He had one option left open to him, no matter how much he didn't want to think about it, and the time had come to take advantage of it. His arrival in this area was purely accidental; he had encountered a group of Death Eaters three days previously and in his haste to escape them, he had Apparated more than a hundred miles off course, landing in this God-forsaken land where Voldemort was carefully monitoring who came in or out. This meant that they were aware someone had magically traveled into their midst, albeit mistakenly, and it would be very unwise to attempt to Apparate back out. He couldn't believe he had made such a monumental mistake after how careful he had been for the last four years, but then again, he had never been very good at Apparition and he had never gotten around to taking the test. With the Death Eaters prowling the area in search of the stranger among them, he couldn't very well walk off, enchantments made escape by broomstick impossible, and the Floo Network was a joke now. Only the Death Eaters could use it. This is where his only option cropped up.

He ducked behind a long abandoned coffee shop on the edge of the village as two people came into view, talking in hushed tones with their hoods pulled up around their faces. _'Very subtle,'_ he thought sarcastically. Did they really think they were inconspicuous? They may as well have sent glowing letters up into the air: WE'RE DISCUSSING SOMETHING SECRET. When he took a closer look, he could have laughed. Theodore Nott and Gregory Goyle were very deep in conversation, so they didn't notice him at all, but he was sure that anyone else sneaking around the area would easily notice them.

While the two were still distracted, Draco slipped down one of the side streets toward a pub that looked as though it had been built in the middle of a patch of Devil's Snare. Vines and heavy layers of moss coated the outside, and as he drew nearer, a most unpleasant smell of rotting wood invaded his nostrils. Of course, he knew very well that this was only a cover. The Hog's Head had long ago been turned into a sort of headquarters for the guards of this Muggle camp, its appearance was to dissuade newcomers from believing it to be of any importance. That didn't work on those who had inside information, however, which was one thing Draco had.

Crouched behind a particularly large clump of dead vines that had been dumped unceremoniously behind the building, he pointed his wand at the decaying wall of the pub and whispered, "_Expecto Patronum._" A gleaming silver panther leapt from its tip and disappeared into the building as Draco's thoughts concentrated on only one thing: the aid he desperately needed.

Several long minutes slipped past as he waited, now sitting behind the vines as he listened for sounds of footsteps inside. He wasn't really expecting to hear anything, undoubtedly security measures had been taken to make the pub soundproof. When he had nearly given up hope of his message reaching its intended recipient, he heard the distinct _swoosh_ of what he was sure were long, more than likely black, robes. Sure enough, he looked up to find Severus Snape sweeping around the corner, genuine surprise flickering across his face as he saw his former student on the ground behind where he had been living for the past year and a half, but it seemed to take him a moment to recognize him. That didn't surprise him. He had changed quite a bit since the old days of at least partial safety. His hair was nearly to his shoulders now because he felt absolutely no ambition to trim it, his skin was roughly the shade of old, yellowed parchment because it so rarely saw the sun, and although he had grown several inches, he knew he had probably lost ten to fifteen pounds. Snape, however, looked exactly the same.

Draco very clearly recalled the last time he had seen this man. Nearly four and a half years ago, just after failing to kill Dumbledore himself, Snape had defended him to the Dark Lord, telling him that although Draco hadn't finished his mission, without him Dumbledore's death still would not have happened. After all, he had managed to get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, something that nobody else had been able to accomplish so far, which still made him a valuable asset. Voldemort had decided that Draco needed to finish his education to make him still more valuable, although Hogwarts wasn't what he had in mind. Draco had spent the next three months being taught by Snape in everything about the Dark Arts, at which he had proved to be rather proficient. During this time, however, he had been forming his own plans.

Responsibility was something he had never liked, and being involved with Voldemort's association would mean mountains of it jumping up and down on his shoulders, so he had patiently waited for his chance to escape. The night Voldemort went to confront Harry Potter, Draco had taken his opportunity. The Death Eaters in the hideout he'd been living in with Snape were distracted, and when Snape was picked as one of the few followers to go with Voldemort to Hogwarts, Draco had crept into the older man's bedroom and pulled out his stores of ingredients. Snape had taught him how to make a potion more volatile than a Muggle bomb, which was one of the few that he had really devoted to memory, so after sneaking out of the hideout and running until he would only just be able to make his spell reach the building, he had sent a jet of flame in its direction. Dumbledore had been correct in assuming that he was incapable of killing another person face to face, but at a distance it was quite easy. This way he didn't have to hear the tortured screams of the six Death Eaters inside.

The hope had been to make it look like he had died as well, but he had unfortunately run straight into none other than Bellatrix Lestrange the very next day. At first she had been thrilled to see him, but he knew that when he made his excuse that he needed to use the restroom and consequently disappeared from the bar they had met in, she had figured out exactly what happened. It would have been second nature to her to betray him to Voldemort. This opinion was confirmed when several months later he was spotted by Vincent Crabbe's father, who promptly sent a Killing Curse in his direction. Luckily, the giant oaf was as much of an idiot as his gorilla of a son, so the curse had missed and Draco had disappeared again.

When Snape had first taken Draco under his wing, Narcissa insisted upon placing him in charge of her son's protection, which meant slightly adding onto the Unbreakable Vow that he later learned Snape had made, forcing Snape to help Draco whenever he needed it. He had used the bonds of that vow to glean information from the former Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts professor about where the Death Eaters were so that he could avoid them, but this correspondence had only been through letters that he wrote very carefully, in case they were intercepted. Today was the first time they had come face to face.

"This is a pleasant surprise," Severus commented quietly, a dark gleam in his eyes plainly stating that he felt this encounter to be anything but pleasant. He had been perfectly happy to take the role of Draco's protector when he believed the boy was faithful to Voldemort, but his betrayal had significantly changed his opinion. Being magically bonded to him was a matter of deepest shame now.

"Let's skip any plays at politeness and get down to business, shall we?" Draco said smoothly, although his voice held the hoarse weariness of disuse. Being in hiding often meant being completely alone, and he was not the type to talk to himself.

Severus's eyes flashed with something like the old amusement he used to have at the antics of the Slytherins, but it disappeared with an almost alarming speed. "You're slowing down, Draco. I never thought you would be foolish enough to Apparate into this area. You may as well have sent an owl to announce your arrival."

"It wasn't a planned visit, believe me," he snapped fiercely, hating the thought of admitting that he had screwed up.

Snape smirked as Draco finally stood up to face him. Now the boy he had once taught so much was an inch taller than him. "So, you came here unintentionally and you need my help to get back out."

"That's right."

Due to the restrictions of the vow, Severus was powerless to deny Draco any assistance if he was capable of giving it, so in a voice that barely disguised his frustration at the situation, he spat, "Where do you want to go?"

Draco shrugged. "Anywhere that isn't swarming with Death Eaters."

"I'm afraid that if you're to use my fireplace, the only options are filled with Death Eaters."

Now it was Draco's turn to smirk. "Now, I don't believe that for a second. Do you really expect me to just accept that you're completely devoted to the Dark Lord? No, you enjoy the benefits of being a double agent too much. I'm sure that when things became desperate for the resistance, you offered your services again, and with no other routes open to them, they were forced to accept them. If you don't know how to send me at least to a location near one of their camps, I'll eat my shoe." This was a rather tall order, for he had been wearing the same pair of shoes for well over two years and he was sure one bite would kill him instantly, considering the places he had taken to hiding in.

Snape's face was devoid of all emotion as he turned on his heel and stalked back toward the front door. Draco followed him inside, which was thankfully empty, and up the stairs to a room so obviously Snape's that Draco could have found it with his eyes closed, due to the horrid scents emanating from inside. Snape worked here as a guard like the others, but his potions were a key part in making sure that the Muggles didn't get any clever ideas and flee. His potions, added liberally to the pitiful scraps that served as their meals, kept them just confused enough to not be able to determine a means of escape, but still sensible enough to know that they were in a miserable situation.

"The word is _Muffliato_," Snape informed him quietly as he held out the pot of Floo Powder. "I've set it up so any passage between here and there is undetectable."

Draco raised an eyebrow curiously. "They must be giving you something you really want in order for you to take that kind of trouble. What is it?"

Snape's eyes seemed blacker than ever. "It will not be of help to you, so I am not required to tell you. Just go." As if to emphasize his meaning, he shook the pot annoyingly under Draco's nose.

Dipping his almost sickly right hand into the pot, he threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and stepped into the emerald flames. It wasn't that he wanted to step into the middle of an insurgency camp, but they were less likely to kill him on sight than the Death Eaters, who far outnumbered any of the witches and wizards still fighting Voldemort. "_Muffliato,_" he stated clearly, flattening his arms against his body and closing his eyes as he began to spin wildly, only opening them when his feet hit solid ground and he automatically stumbled forward, hearing the gasps of shock before seeing the expressions on the faces before him.

He was standing in what could best be described as a hovel, perhaps the size of one of the classrooms at Hogwarts and filled to the very edges with shabby, decomposing bunk beds. The fireplace was probably the most modern facility in the place. On the bed nearest him, two children were staring at him with wide, stunned eyes. One was an approximately two-year-old girl with filthy, unidentifiably colored hair that looked as though she had been sitting in high humidity for quite some time, the other a three-year-old boy with equally squalid hair sticking in every direction. Apparently cleanliness was the farthest thing from these people's minds. Had these children washed their hair yet this month? What about the rest of their bodies? They looked as though they had been drenched and then sat through a sandstorm in the desert.

"Who are you?" came a harsh, male voice just to his left. He turned to find himself staring at a man his age, wearing dusty dirt-colored robes that looked as though they had been patched by a toddler. He wasn't any cleaner than the children; if anything, he was worse. Although he knew it was because their water was probably scarce and they were afraid of any magic being detected by the Death Eaters, it didn't take away any of his disgust. They could have bathed in a mud puddle and managed to get cleaner.

"Nobody important," he replied with a sneer, shouldering the other man roughly as he passed.

"Not so fast!" yelled an entirely different voice, this time female, and suddenly his entire body went rigid and he fell forward to land on his face with a disturbingly loud _thud_. A foot wedged its way under his ribs and rolled him over. Standing directly over him was the man that he had first seen, who must have kicked him over, and a woman who he supposed must have placed the Full-Body Bind on him. While her hair had certainly seen better days, she at least had managed to get her face fractionally cleaner than the others. "Who are you?" she snapped, repeating the man's question.

He glared at her until she released him from the spell, then growled, "Nobody that means you any harm. I'm just passing through."

"In order to get here through the Floo Network, you must have come from Snape, and he has never sent us a stranger before." She hissed Snape's name like it made her mouth taste foul just to speak it, but her eyes never left his.

"Has Snape ever sent you someone dangerous before?" When she didn't answer, he continued smugly, "Then what reason do you have to fear me?"

"You're in our home, and the choice of whether to trust you or not still lies with us," the man warned him in a low voice. It was clear that it was a threat by the way his hand was clenched over his wand. As their eyes connected again, the other man's head tilted slightly to the side. "Hold on a second." As he studied Draco's face, his eyes widened with realization and this time he pulled his wand out completely. "You're Draco Malfoy."

"What's it to you?" he snapped, wanting to stand up but not quite wishing to inspire the angry man in front of him to use his wand.

Now he smiled strangely. "Don't you recognize me? I thought you always said you could pick a Weasley out of a crowd."

Now that he was looking properly, he thought he could detect a vast spattering of freckles across the grimy face before him, and if he looked just right, he could see a glint of red in the hair through the dust and dirt settled into it. Before he could even say his name aloud, however, his eyes wandered back to the woman. At second glance, he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the flaming hair sooner, no matter how abominably dirty it was. Great, he escaped the Death Eaters only to find himself face to face with the two youngest Weasleys.

With greater self-restraint than he had ever shown before, he chose not to spit out the original comment about Weasley hygiene that had sprung to mind and repeated, "I'm just passing through."

Ron's face turned into something like a grimace. "Like hell you are." That's when everything turned black.


	2. The Meager Reunion

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Shadow of a Malfoy

By Be Boring

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Chapter 2: The Meager Reunion

"Vera, honey, please don't go over there."

Draco heard the voice as though from miles away, but he was distinctly aware of something moving around by his legs as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. He was flat on his back on a very hard surface that he suspected to be the ground, his head felt like someone had dropped a cauldron on it, and yes, now he was sure there was something on his legs. Well, someone.

When he opened his eyes, it was to find an eager pair of brown eyes staring at him from his kneecaps. The little girl watching him avidly shuffled forward immediately when she saw that he was awake and settled herself onto his stomach, grinning down at him. "Hi!" she squeaked excitedly.

It took him a while to remember that she had been sitting on a nearby bed when he first arrived in this dump. Slightly disgusted that something this filthy had decided to come into physical contact with him, he slowly sat up, forcing her to slide back onto the ground. The grin never left her face, she obviously didn't understand just what 'snubbing' was. He avoided her gaze and looked around; they had dragged him outside and left him on what apparently was the hardest piece of earth they could find without actually just dumping him on a rock.

"Vera, leave him alone," commanded a voice from off to his right. Looking over, he realized that Ginny was picking vegetables from a rather wretched little garden, dropping them into a sack held by the little boy that he had seen earlier. The boy was staring at him as well, but not with the keen twinkle in his eye that the girl did. In fact, Draco couldn't make much out of the child's expression at all.

"I see you're already working hard on overpopulating the world with yet another generation of Weasleys," he commented dryly as the girl scampered over to join Ginny and the boy.

Ginny scowled at him. "They're not both mine, just Brian here." She tilted her head toward the boy, who apparently felt no need to blink, as his eyes were still focused on Draco. "Vera is my niece."

"Please tell me she's from one of the others, I can't imagine Potter's lapdog being able to reproduce."

This time she kept her back to him as she replied, "There are no others. Ron's the only one of my brothers left."

He thought her voice cracked slightly, but she didn't seem to be crying, so he pressed on. His top priority was to get out of here, and as long as he kept her talking, he stood a chance of getting a good head start before she realized what was happening. With his eyes starting to search for the most practical escape route, he asked distractedly, "How did that happen?"

When she whirled around to glare at him, he had to jerk his head back to look at her so that she couldn't see him studying the area around them. "Why do you care how my brothers died? Shouldn't you be thrilled? After all, there are less Weasleys in the world now. The Malfoys probably all had a celebration in honor of it."

Noticing her hand inching unconsciously toward her wand and suddenly recalling the vicious Bat-Bogey Hex she had used on him in their fifth year, he raised both hands as if in surrender and did his best to work up a suitable expression of innocence. This was more difficult than he would have expected. It simply didn't come naturally to him. "I didn't mean anything by it, I was just asking. I really didn't know until just now that anything had happened to them."

It seemed to pacify her for the moment, but he could still detect some of the fire that had nearly exploded from her moments before. Before he could ask again, she muttered grudgingly, "Bill went with Harry to Hogwarts and was hit by a Killing Curse meant for Ron. Fred and George were both killed when Voldemort attacked Diagon Alley. I'm sure they refused to join him, and he doesn't take prisoners anymore, so even though we never really got to see the bodies, we knew what had happened when they didn't come home after the attack. Percy ended up being put under the Imperius Curse at the Ministry and died later in one of our fights against the Death Eaters." A slight increase in the huskiness of her voice made it obvious that that incident still caused her a great deal of pain, although she managed to keep her smudged features completely blank. She had shown more signs of discomfort at the mention of Percy than she had when she'd spoken Voldemort's name. In fact, she had voiced his name as easily as though she said it every day. "Then Charlie died last year when he was caught breaking into a Death Eater camp for medical potions."

With her eyes still on him, he couldn't very well resume his search. His best option now was to keep the discussion going and wait for her to decide to work on the garden again while they talked. "What about your parents?"

"Dad died at the Ministry and Mum's still here, but she doesn't talk much anymore. Cooking is the only thing she really does with any interest because it distracts her."

It was slowly dawning on Draco that he had made a huge mistake in starting a conversation with her. She seemed to be the type to like to maintain eye contact when she spoke, unless she was doing it because she suspected what he was up to. He was probably stuck with her until someone else turned up. _'It's not hopeless yet. I just need something to take her mind off me.'_

Like an answer to a prayer, little Vera suddenly reached out and snatched the vegetable sack from her cousin, waddling much faster than he would have predicted her capable of toward the dilapidated building behind them and squealing, "Supper! Supper, supper, supper, supper!" Her voice turned into a kind of manic chant as she disappeared inside. Some people he couldn't see laughed, but Ginny scowled and stalked toward the long cabin. He thought he heard the words "every damn time" as she vanished from sight.

As he pushed himself to his feet, he realized that the boy was still watching him. Had he even moved an inch since Draco had first woken up? Wishing the kid would just follow his mother, he mumbled uncomfortably, "Brian, right?"

No answer.

Slightly annoyed now, he tried to lightly comment, "Maybe your Mum could use some help."

No answer.

"Do you talk at all?" he snapped impatiently.

"No, he doesn't," a different voice replied fiercely, one that most definitely didn't belong to a three-year-old boy. Draco turned and watched Ron approach, marking the other man's height as he drew closer. Ron was definitely at least two inches taller than him and several inches broader. For someone who had once been so gangly, he looked remarkably like a boxer. Then again, this lifestyle probably required an extensive physical contribution.

Ron finally came to a halt a mere two feet from him. "Even if he did talk, I wouldn't want him communicating with the likes of you."

"Communicating is a rather big word for you, Weasel. Did some of the other homeless riffraff help you learn some vocabulary?"

The sneer he received in response was almost worthy of a Malfoy. "You talk like you've been still been living in a mansion. Malfoy Manor was destroyed a long time ago, and you certainly don't look like you've been living a life of luxury. With that hair and frame, you look like a woman from behind."

"But you can at least still tell I'm blonde, can't you? I'm guessing they ran out of beds inside. Have you been sleeping in a mud hole? It probably reminds you of home."

This time, he had evidently gone too far. Brilliant lights erupted before his eyes as once again he found himself flat on his back with his cheek throbbing nearly as much as his skull. He didn't even have a chance to sit up again as Ron dropped to his knees and buried his fist in his stomach. Gasping for breath, he flung out an arm and only by lucky chance managed to catch Ron in the collar bone, which ended up being sufficiently painful for them both.

"Stop it!" Ginny yelled angrily, gripping her brother by the armpits and dragging him to his feet, very much against his will. He seemed ready to dive back onto the ground again to continue the fight, but then his eyes landed on Vera, who had followed Ginny back outside and was staring up at him with a very different look from what she had given Draco. Her mouth was slightly open and she seemed petrified. Perhaps she had never seen her father this enraged before.

Softening at the fear in her face, Ron stooped down and picked her up, saying in a much gentler tone than Draco had heard yet, "Let's go help Grandma with supper, shall we?" Vera visibly brightened up at the mention of food and seemed quite content to let him take her back inside, although Draco received another bright, curious look before she disappeared around the corner.

Without warning, Ginny's palm smacked sharply into his temple as he sat up. "You can't go five minutes without fighting with someone, can you?"

"Is there a violent streak in your family that I didn't know about?" he grumbled as he once again climbed to his feet, now rubbing the spot where she had slapped him. "I don't think I'm the one with a fighting problem. The only one of you who hasn't touched me yet is that one over there." He gestured vaguely in Brian's direction. "Well, I guess your mum hasn't done anything either," he admitted. "But I blame her for spawning all of you."

With her hands planted firmly on her hips, Ginny growled, "Ron was right about you, you haven't changed one bit. Snape probably betrayed us and told the Death Eaters where we were, and they sent you here to kill us with sarcasm."

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly several stunned gasps rang out from the cabin and he distinctly heard someone say, "Snape!" Ignoring Ginny, he pushed roughly past her and slipped inside, following the elders of the group to the fireplace where they were gathering around Severus Snape's tall, dark form.

A man stepped forward to meet him, and Draco was surprised to recognize the gaunt shape of Remus Lupin, who barely consisted of more than the gray skin clinging feebly to his bones. Life as a fugitive hadn't been kind to him. Snape looked as though he was about to say something, but then his black eyes fell on Draco standing at the back of the crowd. The same fleeting look of astonishment crossed his face as when he had seen him earlier that day, but he recovered before anyone else could notice. Turning to Lupin as though he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, he said in a low, bored tone, "You said you needed to see me?"

Lupin nodded. "Yes, there is something we are rather curious about. Why did you send Draco Malfoy to us?"

Snape's eyes flashed in his direction again. Draco barely turned his head a fraction of an inch to each side, his eyes narrowed in warning. He preferred having these people believe that he was a Death Eater, because with their incredibly absurd belief of not killing anyone if they could help it, they would simply hold him here to keep an eye on him. It would be easier to escape them when they were in that state of mind than if they thought they might be able to convince him to help them.

Immediately returning his gaze to Lupin, Snape managed to achieve a perfect expression of polite ignorance. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen Draco since we left the school."

The memory of just how the pair had departed from Hogwarts wasn't a pleasant memory for Lupin, because he visibly stiffened at Snape's words. "He came here through the Floo Network. You told us yourself that you arranged it so that only you would know how to get here that way, so he must have had your help."

"If I was sending anyone here, I would have contacted you about it first," Snape rebutted with the slightest hint of irritation. "I don't know how he discovered the name we placed on your grate, but it appears that he's done no harm yet. You all still look whole enough to me. Well, as whole as possible." His dark eyes passed scornfully around the room, lingering momentarily on the splintered table in the back where Mrs. Weasley was starting to pour vegetable soup into bowls as Ron and Vera tended the gargantuan pot behind her. "Has he told you why he is here?"

"We haven't had the opportunity to speak to him yet," Lupin admitted grudgingly.

Lowering his voice and leaning in so that no one else could hear him, Draco could see Snape whispering something in Lupin's ear. He frowned as he watched Lupin glance sideways cautiously in his direction, then nod, although he didn't seem very pleased as Snape suddenly set off through the crowd, heading straight for Draco. Their eyes connected quickly, then Snape looked pointedly at the door. The thought of talking to Snape in this place, where anyone might be able to eavesdrop no matter where they hid, didn't appeal to him greatly.

Snape passed him once they were outside and marched straight into the forest, not stopping until they reached a tree thicker than the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid. "I didn't expect you to linger this long, but it has to end. You need to get out of here before nightfall."

If he had been expecting anything, it wasn't that. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? The fools suspect you of being a Death Eater who came here to gather information. Security will tighten after dark, and yes, they have security," he added warningly when Draco snorted contemptuously, "but that's not our greatest concern. They have every right to be suspicious, they're just concentrating on the wrong person. The Death Eaters know about this place and they're planning to attack tonight."

Draco raised his eyebrows in some amusement. "Were you planning on telling the rest of them that?"

Looking rather pleased with himself, Snape replied, "Of course not, what difference does it make to me if the entire camp is burned down? There will undoubtedly still be survivors, and they will owe me a great debt when I arrange for a new hiding place for them."

"So they actually have something you want? That's why you've been helping them?" Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a terrible idea to stay with Snape after he left Hogwarts rather than running away. The man had more resources than anyone else he knew, with the exception of Voldemort.

The clear _snap_ of a twig echoed through the still air, and almost immediately Snape was sweeping back through the trees, his robes making him look almost like a dementor stalking its prey. Nearly forty yards from where they had been talking, they found the source of the disturbance. A man and a woman from the camp had slowly been approaching them, probably to spy, but they hadn't stepped on the twig. Brian had been making his way through the brush toward them, and as the pair drew even with him, he stopped and stared straight up into Snape's eyes. Draco noticed for the first time that the boy's eyes were a shocking green as he glared up at the older man, but what surprised him was the coldness with which Snape gazed back at him. For a moment, there was a blaze of sheer hatred glowing on his sallow face, then Brian noticed Draco standing there and the tension was broken when he shifted his eyes. Snape took off again toward the miserable dwelling of the resistance, but Draco stayed right where he was.

Brian had inherited his mother's hair color, but the way it was sprouting out in every direction couldn't all be because he wasn't taking care of it, and there was absolutely no mistaking those eyes. The boy certainly wasn't four years old yet, which could only mean that Ginny had been pregnant when Harry left to face Voldemort. He didn't know why it hadn't occurred to him earlier just who Brian's father must have been.

Collecting himself again, he stepped around the child and headed back to the cabin. Both the witch and wizard had a hand inside their robes, presumably on their wands, and he wasn't sure he could confront both of them. It would be better to slip off when no one was paying attention to him.

The moment he was inside, he noticed that Snape had already passed back through the fireplace while the rest of the group was making their way to the table where Mrs. Weasley was now handing out bowls of soup with Ron's help. He almost started walking with everyone else, but firmly dug his heels into the ground as he decided that he would rather starve than accept food from Ron or his mother. As his stomach battled with his mind over this decision, something poked him very hard in the thigh. Vera was standing at his side with two bowls in her hands, one of which she held up for him to take.

He gave an indistinct grunt of gratitude as he lifted the bowl out of her hands, but she wasn't done with him yet. Before he could stop her, she had grabbed his pointer finger and was leading him obstinately toward the same bed that he had first seen her in. Draco paused when he saw Brian already sitting there with his bowl of soup, but Vera wasn't taking no for an answer. When she had finally led him to the bed, she banged a tiny little fist against his leg, which he assumed was an order to sit down. Well, he was better off sitting with the kids than with any of the adults. Perhaps seeing him around them would take some of the suspicion away from him. Turning his back to the fire, he slumped onto the bed next to Brian.

At least once he began eating, they concentrated on their food rather than him, although out of the corner of his eye he was now studying Vera. Just like Brian, it was her hair that really gave away her parentage. That bushiness couldn't all be due to humidity, especially since it wasn't really that muggy out. Automatically, his eyes darted around the room in search of Hermione. He was surprised he hadn't seen her yet, but the longer he searched, the more clear it became to him that she must have gone the same way as the majority of the Weasleys.

Throwing caution to the winds, he asked lightly, "Where's your mother?"

Rather than looking sad or confused, she just shrugged indifferently. "Dunno."

"Where do you get off talking to my daughter?" Ron's voice came from directly behind him, but rather than hitting him again, Ron leaned forward and picked Vera up again. "You don't need to be talking to him, do you understand?" he asked Vera pointedly, although she just looked grumpy at having been pulled away from her new friend. The moment they were out of sight, Ginny appeared. He expected her to do the same as her brother and remove her son from his presence as quickly as possible, but instead she sat on the bed across from them.

"I see the kids have taken a liking to you," she commented quietly, glancing at her son, who hadn't done anything of the sort. He probably would have sat quietly next to anyone who happened to be near him.

"Lucky me," he muttered sardonically, swallowing the last of his soup and setting the bowl to the side.

"Do you ever say something without being sarcastic?" she asked bitterly. "I know your type don't have any manners, but you could at least do us the courtesy of pretending."

His brow furrowed in exasperation. "My type? You don't know anything about _my type_. You don't even know what my type is."

Setting her bowl aside as well, although she was far from being finished, she clasped her hands politely in her lap and looked at him with a face of purely mocking attentiveness. "Then by all means, explain to me just what kind of person you are."

"I don't owe you any explanation," he sneered. "You're holding me here against my will."

"It's not like you're being locked in a cage. Do you really think we'd be that lucky if we walked into one of your camps?"

Deciding that he would be better off not answering, he abruptly changed the topic. "Where am I sleeping tonight? I'm not expected to sleep on one of these, am I?" he asked as he studied the bed he was sitting on distastefully. "I don't fancy falling that distance in the middle of the night, but I also don't like the thought of someone landing on me."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't know what the elders will do with you for tonight, but if you don't like what we have here, you can sleep outside."

He leered at her. "Maybe I will." Picking up his bowl, he headed straight for the door, his eyes automatically flicking toward the sky. He couldn't see the sun through the trees, but he thought he detected a shadow of pink on the western horizon. If Snape was right, he would have to get out of here soon. Glancing furtively around to see if anyone was watching him, he began to walk carefully toward the woods again. There was no time like the present, after all.


	3. The Face in the Dark

****

Shadow of a Malfoy

By Be Boring

****

Chapter 3: The Face in the Dark

Black shadows slowly wavered over Draco's wan features as he wove his way through the trees, always heading in the direction of the setting sun. He had no particular reason for heading that way other than at least he knew he wouldn't be traveling in circles. It would be safe to try Apparating as soon as he was sure that the Death Eaters were already attacking the camp, for his little bit of magic would go entirely unnoticed. Once again his fingers were persistently attached to his wand, his eyes continually scanning all around him. Someone would have seen him leave the camp, for he had been far from inconspicuous, but so far it didn't seem that he was being followed, which was something he would notice immediately. Four years of constantly being on the alert had greatly honed his observational skills.

When every last ray of light had disappeared from the west and darkness blanketed the forest floor around him, a chilling scream rang through the air. It was so distant by now that at first Draco thought he might be imagining things, but when he looked back to the east, he saw a faint glow just above the trees that he was positive wasn't sunlight. Just as he was about to face westward again and continue on his way, several green stars soared through the air above the camp and formed a giant skull with a serpent's tongue. It looked strangely dim, as though he were looking at it through a screen, then he realized that thick smoke was billowing skyward, which meant that the glow above the trees was coming from a fire.

Faint screams began to echo hauntingly through the trees, but Draco turned away from the source with a grimace. The entire situation strongly reminded him of the night of his escape; he had heard the Death Eaters screaming just like this as he ran away.

A sudden series of popping noises rippled one right after the other somewhere ahead of him, and he distinctly heard someone whisper, "Don't be scared, just be quiet and it will all be okay." The gentleness of the voice indicated that it was speaking to a child. Now the woods around him were no longer peaceful; pounding footsteps and the sound of brush being shoved urgently aside turned the former silence into a bedlam of panicked whispers and indignantly squawking birds who were surprised out of their nests by the cacophony. Draco slowed until he knew that they were all a safe distance ahead of him, then trailed after them carefully. Why had they come in this direction? If they had Apparated, why didn't they try to get farther away? They were barely more than a mile from the camp, the Death Eaters could still easily overtake them if they figured out which direction they had gone in.

"We're almost there," Lupin's voice reassured the others quietly. "It can't be more than a hundred feet."

His curiosity aroused, Draco remained directly behind them as they jogged due west. Perhaps they had another shelter hidden away out here, and if they believed it was safe enough for them, it would be safe enough for him. They didn't have to know he was there, as long as he was nearby he should have nearly as much protection as they did.

The group stopped so suddenly that Draco nearly jogged right into the middle of them. Luckily, they were all so busy focusing on Lupin that nobody noticed him slip back into the shadows beneath the nearest tree. He couldn't see very clearly, although even without any satisfactory light he thought he should be able to see where Lupin was taking them, but it looked as though they were in the middle of nowhere. The trees in this particular section of forest had long since died, it was like they were facing a graveyard. Lupin, however, seemed to have found what he was looking for. Running his hands over a tree that had partially tipped over, forming a crude, rotting archway of sorts, he finally found a spot that made his exhausted eyes light up in triumph. He pulled out his wand and gave the trunk two firm taps, and suddenly the archway formed by the tree was no longer just an entrance to the forest cemetery. Instead, the tree tipped completely over and curled into a perfect circle, magically revealing a stairway leading down into pitch blackness.

Draco hung back while the others scrambled down the stairs, but once Lupin had followed them through, the tree sprang back up into its original position. He stepped out into the meager light from the stars and approached it, but he couldn't see where Lupin had triggered it to become the entrance to their second shelter. He even walked through the archway, but it only brought him closer to the other dead trees, not down below them. He set off among the rotting wood, listening closely with his head tipped toward the ground, but it was impossible to tell whether he was over them or not.

This situation didn't make him feel much safer. He had thought just being near them would be enough, but right now he was right out in the open, perfectly visible to any approaching Death Eaters, while they were safely beneath the ground. No, being near them wouldn't be enough. He needed to get down there somehow. As he paced over the apparently thick, solid ground, an angry shout rang out from the living trees to the east.

"They definitely came through here, look how everything's been knocked flat!"

Draco didn't recognize the voice, but he knew it had to belong to a Death Eater. How had they known which direction to come in? He stepped behind one of the trunks that had still remained standing and tried to take stock of where he was. He was about thirty yards from the tree that had served as an entrance. How big was this place they were in? How far down did it start? No matter how much he didn't want to consider it, it seemed like Apparition would be the only way to get down there, but he had never tried to go through the ground before. He did reasonably well when he knew where he was going and there was no pressure to hurry, but the last time he had Apparated while running from Death Eaters hadn't ended as pleasantly as he would have liked, and that had been above ground. What if he ended up just planting himself in the earth and suffocating?

When three Death Eaters stepped into the rotting, death zone, he knew he didn't have a choice. They would undoubtedly find him hiding here, and if he ran for it, he would be in the open. Fighting wouldn't be wise, they already outnumbered him and he was sure they were only the beginning. Others would surely be right behind them. Closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on the area directly below him, he turned on the spot.

When the extremely claustrophobic sensation had ended, he apprehensively opened one eye and peered around. Well, he was certainly underground, and thankfully not enclosed in dirt. He was standing at the very edge of a tiny cave, which was hardly more than a hollowed bit of earth. Roots dangled eerily all over the ceiling while every now and then a small clump of earth would fall to the ground, but the entire place looked like it could collapse at any moment. The ceiling wasn't held up by anything that he could see, but he recognized the hair-raising energy in the air that meant a great deal of magic was being used here. Goosebumps erupted up and down his arms even though he wasn't at all cold.

A great deal of shuffling nearby proved that he was indeed near the small portion of the resistance that had come this way, although from what he could see, he was completely cut off from them. Not that he could see very much, but there didn't seem to be any way out of this cavern. Perhaps there was some secret trigger in here like at the entrance to pass from one cave to another, but he couldn't see any reason to enter this bleak little hole. It was completely empty as far as he could tell.

Stepping away from the wall closest to the sounds of the others, he slowly made his way across the room, his arms held out to prevent him from colliding with anything, his wand held securely in his right hand. He guessed he was in the middle of the cavern when his feet struck something very solid and he tipped over, only catching himself just in time to prevent his nose slamming into the ground. Sitting up angrily and wiping the dirt off his hands, he reached out to find his wand again, but instead his fingers brushed against something else. He gave the object one strong prod with a finger, then pulled back in surprise. It had given way slightly, and it was warm, much warmer than it should have been down in this cave.

"Who are you?" he whispered hesitantly. Whoever it was hadn't protested when he'd poked them, but he was still sure that he had touched a person. What else could it have been?

When there was no answer, he urgently resumed his search for his wand, loathing the thought of being without it when he wasn't alone. The person lying next to him didn't move once while his hands scrabbled through the loose dirt that made up the entire floor of the cave. Triumphantly, his fingers finally closed around the solid wood of his wand and he whirled around, pointing it in the general direction of the person beside him. Whoever it was still hadn't done anything to even show he or she was alive, and even right now Draco didn't know if his wand was aimed at their head or their toes. Was it safe to risk a bit of magic? The Death Eaters wouldn't be paying attention to that right now, they were too distracted, and it wasn't like he was planning on anything complicated.

"_Lumos,_" he murmured, holding his wand steady as a beam of light glowed from its tip. The gleam illuminated a pair of muddy, wrinkled jeans. He was sitting at the person's hip, and judging by the pucker of the fabric on top of the nearest leg, Draco had poked them in the thigh. Passing the beam up the body, he next saw a torn, battered gray T-shirt that looked unnaturally large on the scrawny frame beneath it. That's when the light glinted off something on the face.

As he leapt back in shock, the light vanished as his concentration jumped miles away from the spell he was supposed to be maintaining. He couldn't have seen that cprrectly. Of course not, it was just the stress of the whole situation playing tricks with his mind. Then again, stress had never made him hallucinate Harry Potter's limp body before.

Just as he had pushed himself to his knees to get a closer look, a light ignited from the far side of the cave before he had even attempted to rekindle his wand. "What are you doing here?" Ginny gasped, barely keeping her voice quiet enough to avoid being heard from the people in the parallel cave.

The light from her wand not only revealed the horror on her face at seeing him there, but it also made Harry perfectly visible, and from this close, it was impossible to confuse him with anyone else. Although he had lost a considerable amount of weight, far more than Draco or anyone he had seen so far, and his skin was almost ghostly white, his face and hair were still unmistakable.

"Never mind what I'm doing here," Draco finally replied, never taking his eyes off Harry's skeletal face. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"Get away from him," Ginny hissed, dropping to her knees beside Harry and holding her wand right under Draco's nose. Although she was trying to sound defiant, her voice trembled and it was clear that the night's events had taken their toll on her, and this certainly wasn't helping matters. "Are you happy now? Going to go share everything with your boss? This'll be news to him."

It was news to Draco as well. "So he's been alive all this time, and the Dark Lord never knew?"

"Of course he never knew, otherwise I'm sure he would have had all of you on the lookout for the past four years." Suddenly, she pointed her wand at him and snapped, "_Expelliarmus!_" Before he could react, his wand was ripped out of his fingers and landed lightly in Ginny's outstretched palm. He didn't even think about it, he dove over Harry's body and slammed into her, grabbing her left hand and wrenching his wand right back out. There was no way a Weasley was going to deprive him of his wand. While his attention was on her left arm, however, she threw her right elbow into his mouth. His lip began bleeding afresh, but he merely shoved her away and sat back, pointing his wand furiously at her.

"What the hell was that for?" he snarled, trying to keep his voice down so that the people in the next room didn't hear him. The last thing he needed was an audience right now.

"Well, I couldn't very well have you cursing me and running off to tell Voldemort everything you've seen, could I?"

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, grimacing when some dirt slipped inside. "I was going to do nothing of the sort. Well, cursing you wasn't entirely out of the question."

Before she could respond, several tiny clumps of dirt fell from the ceiling onto Harry's chest. Both Draco and Ginny looked up anxiously. The roots above them were shifting slightly, and suddenly Draco realized that the Death Eaters were literally right above their heads at that very moment. He wasn't too confident in the ceiling's ability to hold under the weight, but every time a Death Eater moved off one spot, the roots would grudgingly squirm back to their original position, although a fair amount of dirt dropped onto all three of them every time.

When Draco turned his attention back to the situation at hand, trying to ignore the way his heart had begun to crash wildly against his ribs, it was to find Ginny staring at him with an indiscernible expression on her face. She looked like someone had told her something completely unbelievable.

"What?" he finally snapped, annoyed with the way she didn't seem to be blinking, quite similar to how her son stared, actually.

"You're not a Death Eater, are you?" It wasn't an accusation, instead her tone held a faint glimmer of hope.

"What makes you say that?" he muttered evasively. He had absolutely no interest in being asked to join the pathetic little band of freedom fighters in the next cave.

"When the Death Eaters walked over us, I think you were just as scared as I was," she replied softly, still looking at him as though not daring to believe the conclusion she had already arrived at. "You don't want them to find this cave any more than I do, do you?"

"I don't really care if they find this cave or not, I just don't want to be here when they do," Draco declared finally. "It's no matter to me whether they find your precious Potter or not."

"That's not true and you know it." Now Ginny's eyes were narrowed darkly, but the suspicion was no longer there that he had already become accustomed to seeing. "You heard what the _Daily Prophet_ was saying about him before he fought Voldemort. They called him the Chosen One, the only one who would be able to defeat Voldemort, and they were right. Once Harry's dead, all our hope is gone."

"But why isn't he dead?" Draco asked in frustration. After so much time of thinking Harry had just developed an astronomical ego from his fame, it infuriated him that Potter had been right all along, that he really was more special than everyone else. "He certainly doesn't look too far from it right now, but obviously the Dark Lord thinks he's dead, so why is he laying here still breathing? Even if he didn't finish the job the first time, I would have expected the Dark Lord to come after him again."

"Well, he survived then because he was better protected than Voldemort expected, and he's still alive now because Voldemort obviously didn't count on him surviving the Killing Curse twice."

Draco rolled his eyes contemptuously. "Great, when he finally wakes up he won't be able to stand with that ridiculously bloated head on his shoulders."

Ginny seemed almost on the verge of jinxing him, but apparently thought better of it. "You'd think four years of hiding would have forced some better manners into you, but I guess not. I really can't believe you're not a Death Eater."

"I never actually said I wasn't, did I?"

"That's because you always liked having that cool, evil image," she said sarcastically. "When it comes right down to it, you're a coward. You couldn't actually do anything you bragged about. Some people may have taken that as a sign of hope, particularly when you couldn't kill Dumbledore, but I know better."

Every cruel, biting reply that his mind had conjured when she called him a coward evaporated upon hearing Dumbledore's name. "How did you know about that?" He tried not to sound as stunned as he felt, but it was a futile act.

Ginny nodded her head toward Harry. "Harry was there that night under his Invisibility Cloak. Dumbledore was holding him under a Full-Body Bind the entire time you two were talking. That's why he was chasing you and Snape once you made it outside. Did you know he actually wished to find you after that? He knew you weren't ready to be a Death Eater and he really wanted to get you away from them. I think he pitied you for what you were going through."

"I never needed his pity," Draco sneered, rage bubbling beneath his skin so powerfully that he wouldn't have been surprised to look down and see his skin rippling with its force. What right did that egotistical famed brat have to pity him? Did it make him feel like a better person to feel sorry for the boy he had hated for six years? If the roles were switched, Draco knew he would feel no pity. Whatever Potter got, he deserved, and that included being unconscious for four years.

"You're truly pathetic, you know that?" she spat at him. "You don't have the guts to do anything you raved about, but you're still too full of yourself to accept anything other than spite from anyone you don't like. You know what? I pity you too." At the fire that leapt into his eyes, she plunged on furiously, "That's right, I pity you. I can't imagine being forced to be alone for so long because I didn't have the courage to pick sides. Neutrality will never work in this war, Malfoy, it's either the Death Eaters or us."

"If it weren't for your precious Golden Boy fucking it all up, I wouldn't have to choose! I ran away the night he wound up like this, and because of him, I've had to live off next to nothing for more years than I ever would have thought possible. If I had thought for one moment that I'd be living like this for so long, I would have stayed! Then you would have been completely justified in accusing me for every evil deed that exists, although I wouldn't have had to listen to it because I would have killed you the moment I stepped out of your fireplace!" In the fiery heat of his rage, he had risen to his feet to nearly shout down at her, although still not loud enough to carry to the next room.

Following his lead, she jumped to her feet as well, and although she was at least seven inches shorter than him, it was every bit as impressive due to the blazing fury on her face. "So you're telling me you blame Harry because you were stupid enough to run away? That's not Harry's fault, that's your own idiocy coming out. Actually, I find the whole idea hilarious, because you basically cursed yourself in the foot. You cut yourself off from the Death Eaters, but you knew you could never join us. You dug your own grave, Malfoy."

"What is he doing here?" Lupin asked from the edge of the cave. Draco and Ginny both paused and turned to look at him, startled out of their private circle of hate. Lupin stepped forward into the light still emanating from Ginny's wand so that the lines in his face became darker and more prominent than ever. He looked closer to sixty than his mid-forties.

Ginny dropped back down beside Harry, unconsciously brushing the dirt from his clothes. "I don't know why he's here, we never got around to that."

When Lupin's shadowed eyes moved to Draco, he muttered, "It was through sheer accident, believe me."

Lupin obviously didn't understand his continued presence there, so Ginny announced rather abruptly, "He's not a Death Eater. He's just a coward who's been hiding for years."

Without lowering himself to look at her, he growled, "Thank you for that little introduction, but I can explain things myself, thanks."

Stepping between them to prevent any continued arguing, Lupin concluded quietly, "Now is not the time for this kind of discussion. It's been a long night, I'm sure we're all tired, and the last thing any of the children need is for a fully grown witch and wizard to start a duel in the middle of the night. They've been scared enough." Turning to Draco, he added, "You can stay here tonight, because at the very least you're not against us, but I would like a word with you in the morning." He raised a hand before Draco could protest. "You're intruding on our sanctuary and I have been kind enough to share it with you, the least you could do is give me something as trivial as a conversation."

After he had satisfied himself with glaring callously at the other man, he finally nodded. Lupin glanced briefly down at Harry before adding, "And it's probably not a good idea for you to sleep in here. You'll need to come to the main cavern. I wouldn't worry about a poor reception, everyone is quite distracted at the moment."

Leaving Ginny at Harry's side, they walked into the shadows at the edge of the cave. Lupin reached up and prodded a particularly large root with his wand. Almost immediately, a very slim crack opened in the wall of dirt and Lupin pressed his narrow body through it sideways. It was very lucky that they were both exceedingly skinny, because even someone of normal build would have found it very difficult to cram through the opening.

Lupin was right, he didn't have to worry about anyone noticing him. He could see Ron on the far side of the cave, but he was currently very preoccupied with Vera, Brian, and another couple children approximately the same age who were clinging nervously to him, apparently viewing him as a solid, secure point around which to gather. Many other people had already settled themselves onto the floor to make the best of things for the night, which seemed like the only thing to do right now. Finding a corner where the light of the many candles the others had arranged couldn't reach him, he sat with his back against the wall, his hand just inside his robes and wrapped securely around his wand. He didn't foresee actually getting much sleep, but as he settled back and watched everyone else making themselves as comfortable as was possible in the damp, earthy environment, it vaguely occurred to him that this was the first night he had spent in the company of other people since the night before he ran away.


End file.
